


Put Your Hands On Me

by Lissellone



Category: DEAN (Korean Musician), Ylvis
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Bondage, F/M, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 22:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12757581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lissellone/pseuds/Lissellone
Summary: Inspired by the Vegard we caught a glimpse ofhere:Shameless smut. Endless tropes.My imagination ran away with me.In the words of DΞΔN himself:I'm sorryNo, I'm not sorryI'm just getting startedAnd my life's a partySo I'm turnin', turnin', turnin', turnin', turnin' up





	Put Your Hands On Me

“Reach up. Higher.”

Dean marvelled at how composed his lover still was, sunk into her to the hilt and still fully dressed. What a picture they made, her of the lovely curves and icy hair, a trembling, beautiful wilted mess against Vegard's impeccable posture, still arrayed in parade dress and buttoned up to the throat. He watched as Vegard led her a few, tiny stumbling steps towards the bed so she could steady herself on the wooden rail at its base.

Her arms trembled as she moved to follow his instructions, a low moan given to the air thick and syrupy around them as she raised from the waist from where she had been bent over, involuntarily changing the angle and depth of his lover inside her. She stopped with a breathless gasp, thwarted, hands still propped on her own knees to keep herself upright.

“Hands on the beam. Don’t let go.”

Dean didn’t think she could, she was now clutching the wooden beam white-knuckled, as if it would save her from the horrors of the night or some such. And that was before Vegard started moving his hips in a semi-circular motion, grinding himself against her. She was so sensitive by this point she almost lost hold, recovering with a little cry, legs trembling with the effort.

Dean thought that was just mean, considering Vegard had been bringing her to the brink and backing off for quite a while now. He was surprised she hadn’t come the moment he had entered her, a long smooth slide which had her pressing bruises into her own skin, eyes wide and blind.

He was supposed to be taking off his makeup, having just come off stage just over half an hour ago. He still performed sometimes, when he felt like it, when the money was good enough or when the stage was enticing enough. Ending a good performance was a high it took him a while to work off.

Opening the door to Eiliđh whimpering through a makeshift gag across Vegard’s lap as he rendered her pretty little bum an even, blushing red with his bare hand, however, had quite distracted him (and her, but mostly him).

The floor length mirror across the room showed that quite clearly, his eyeliner still a charcoal smudge where he had stopped, unwilling to take his eyes off the scene for more than a few moments. His hair was still artfully mussed, parted severely down one side and wild waves on the other in the way that Vegard especially liked. He had untied the striking red scarf from around his forehead and dropped his necklaces and rings on the table, but that was about as much progress as he had made.

The slow progress halted entirely when he heard Vegard tell Eiliđh that she could only come if she used her internal muscles to do so, without moving her arms or legs. All the while Vegard had continued the maddeningly subtle circular motions of his hips against hers, and now he brought the delicate little nipple clamps with their sweet bells and tiny weights back into play.

The sound she made when they went on made all the blood leave his head.

Vegard flashed him a wicked grin akin to that of a boy playing a particularly fine prank. It lit up his face, an expression he seldom wore, and gave Dean a glimpse of the man he had once been; mischievous and joyful in a way that filled his entire being. A boy seen only in photos and grainy videos from more than a decade earlier, before war and strife had hardened him into the sharp-jawed, stern-eyed and serious officer he was today.

“Our Dean, my precious boy. How long does it take you to undress?” Vegard tilted his head to the side in a beckoning gesture. “Did you not want to join the fun? Too tired and content from receiving love from your adoring audience to join us?”

His voice had a bite to it by the end, which made Dean snap to attention.  “No, Sir!”

He dropped the makeup wipe to the dresser and was across the room in a flash, going to his knees by Vegard’s feet. He didn’t see Vegard in full-on Dom mode that often any longer, but they did enjoy it when the mood took. It was definitely one fine way to work off a stage high.

Vegard tangled his fingers in the luxe curls of Dean’s hair and tugged him upwards, light sparks of pain dancing across his scalp. They shared a kiss, long and filthy and deep, before Vegard broke contact and took him firmly by the back of his neck and sucked deep, red marks into the graceful lines of his collar bones, sinking teeth into the blunt muscle underneath and to the side of his jaw, just enough to leave a dull ache and imprints Dean knew would take a day or two to fade.

Just then, Eiliđh let out a choked, frustrated whine, at which Vegard put a firm hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down to his knees. The pain was exquisitely balanced, just enough to sharpen his focus to razor-like keenness, bringing a tingling awareness of being completely and fully present in his body.

Vegard smiled at him, whilst leaning forwards to tweak the dangling weights on Eiliđh’s nipples, running his hands over her body, tweaking and teasing and coaxing more gasps from her throat. A tremor rippled across the topography of her body, gleaming with sweat.

“Hyuk-ah.” Vegard used the affectionate diminutive in the language of Dean’s homeland he had learned to call him by. “I think our little girl here needs some help.”

“She’s been very cheeky today. I caught her buttering up the new toy I had tucked away, all by herself. Look now, I’ve even offered her a chance to come, just like this, speared on my cock. That is, if she can but stay still and only use those exquisite, greedy little muscles in her pussy and her core that she’s been training to milk out an orgasm for herself. What say you Dean, will you show mercy?”

The bells jingled as Eiliđh nodded wildly at Dean, pale grey eyes dewy and imploring. Vegard’s sparkled with amused malice. Stretched out and clutching desperately at the bedframe, she was every bit as exquisite as Vegard had called her. The firm tone in her arms and legs showed under a soft roundness to her limbs, and she was so very fair. Her pale, pale, white hair - the colour of the month for her - rose in a soft cloud over dark brows. It added to the ethereal, vulnerable look, her body taut and gleaming under a light layer of perspiration. It made him want to despoil her.

“Mercy?” he watched her expression perk up.

“Mercy should come after she atones for her behaviour, surely, Sir.” He wanted to laugh at the expression of betrayal that crossed her face. “I think she needs to concentrate on your pleasure before her own, which is something she forgets all too often.”

“Hmmm, what did you have in mind, my bright young thing?”

Dean gives him a slow, brilliant smile and slides himself between Eiliđh’s legs. “Well, as she should seek your pleasure before her own, I will be merciful only after she has made you come, Sir.”

Dean slaps her breasts lightly to make the weights swing, grinning up at her annoyed expression. “Kjære, sweetheart, you have fifteen minutes to make it worth Sir’s while. Otherwise, you get to sit pretty and watch how it’s done. I’ll even help you - but if you come before he does, it’s into the brig with you. Now, the orders he gave you still stand, so stay still. If your hands or feet move an inch, so help me God.”

With that, he settles himself between her legs and glances back to see her expression turn horrified as she realises what he plans. He winks.

Dean is an attentive, talented lover who loves pleasuring his lovers orally. Vegard himself has iron self control over his body, not easily broken. All of the odds are stacked against her, and she knows she is on the losing side the moment Dean leans forwards and licks a hot, wet stripe right up the sweet centre of her that makes her limbs liquid.

It is just a taste, before he draws back and just breathes, hot and damp, letting the anticipation build. She is already sensitive and primed, slick, from the spanking and all the teasing. He leans forward again and lets the tip of his tongue tease briefly between her folds before taking his attention to the puffy, swollen outer lips and lathering them with patient attention, working from the outside in. He means to have her _writhing_ on Vegard’s cock before the ten minute mark.

He makes it in eight.

Eiliđh is crying and begging for mercy, rippling and clenching around his lover, arms and legs trembling so badly they can barely hold her up. To her credit, she hasn’t moved them from their original spot. His hands are on her hips, taking some of her weight, and Vegard’s overlap with his where he is holding her up. Dean spares a quick glimpse to the side to check on how Vegard is doing and loosen the crick in his neck, but loses his breath instead.

Vegard is stunning, the muscles in his arms corded from the strain, head thrown back to reveal that beautiful, vulnerable stretch of throat, eyes closed. His dark curls are damp and glistening and he has loosened the first two buttons of his collar to reveal a fine dusting of hair and beautifully golden skin. Dean redoubles his efforts to a _howl_ from Eiliđh, her undulations speeding up and becoming erratic. She’s about to come, is holding herself back with sheer bloody-minded stubbornness (she really hates the brig), but is reaching the point of no return nevertheless.

He spares a hand tentatively, checking to see if Vegard can balance the extra weight, then quickly snaps off the nipple clamps. There’s a split-second lag just before Eiliđh cries out incoherently and goes rigid, reaching her climax suddenly and wetly, shuddering, then losing all ability to hold herself upright. Dean quickly readjusts and gathers her in his arms, letting her sag against him, holding her through it and stroking her back soothingly. Vegard is still buried deep and gives a few quick thrusts, eyes still closed and gritting his teeth through the pulsing pleasure of her molten core fluttering around him.

When she has quieted somewhat, chest still heaving with quick breaths but calming, Vegard withdraws and she whines softly. He lets her weight down completely to Dean who lifts her and turns so her back is resting against his chest. “Juice,” he murmurs to Vegard, who nods and pads off to get a box from the bar fridge.

“You guys are stupid,” she mutters into his neck.

Dean laughs and laughs. “Life is not fair, kjære. You should know this by now.”

He makes her drink a few mouthfuls before letting her sit up on her own. Turning to track Vegard’s progress, Dean raises his eyebrows when he sees the piece of equipment his lover has let down from the storage wall. It’s the observation piece; military grade silicon shaped into strong transparent sealable webbing that can hold a person’s weight and have all the air drawn out from it, turning it into a perfect display piece. He’s taken his turn in it, and has always found it one of the more interesting pieces in their club. It’s a strange feeling when it is suspended from holding bars, buoyant and lightweight, yet strong and completely immovable from the position he was in when the air was vacuumed out.

“Looks like Sir has sympathy after all,” he says. She brightens.

The brig, which she hates, is a padded leather seat with restraints mounted in a transparent box on wheels. The person is seated, with or without a dildo that can be affixed to the seat to make things more interesting, and fastened in, head outside the device. Hot air is then fed in when it is plugged into the wall to create a miniature sauna environment and it starts to get very, very hot and confining. Eiliđh particularly detests the way it saps all energy from her, which makes for very amusing and effective punishment when required.

“She has improved in her control, and was fairly disciplined in following instruction this time,” Vegard says blandly. “I still think she can make it up to us later, and the brig will leave her fairly useless in that aspect.”

She is quiet and obedient as they move her into a desired position before fastening up the observation piece and having the air suctioned out. Dean had tucked in a little vibe switched on to a setting that will keep her primed without letting her have another orgasm. The motorised holding bars lift her up so she is suspended at a good vantage point. It is a simple spreadeagle, but the flush on her pussy is still visible, as are her reddened buttocks, which sets it off to great advantage. She wriggles a bit, but is held tight, with only her head outside of the lock.

“Beautiful,” Dean says, and kisses her, then gags her for good measure.


End file.
